Weekend Coffee Share #18

~ Sahara ~ Leave a comment

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If we were having coffee, we would both arrive at the same time, a different shop than we normally go to, this one out in the woods. There’s a large truck idling outside, and the noise and gas its belching clashes with the serenity of the trees around us. We’re not happy about that, but the gentleman barista brings us our cappuccino. I like this part, I say to you.

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Top Ten Favorite Memories of the Wee One

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The Wee One has just finished her first full week as a one year old, and in honor of that, I’ve been thinking about (and now I’m going to share with you) my top favorite memories of her this past year. They’re in no particular order.

  1. The first time I saw her. Of course, right? I had no idea what to expect, but I did think she’d be wailing. She wasn’t. She was chill from the beginning.
  2. Sleeping with her. I was NOT going to be a bed-sharer with my baby, but I did. She didn’t like her bassinet, I didn’t like her sleeping in the swing without the buckle (she was swaddled), and it just worked for us. When it stopped working, we changed it, but I loved doing it and would advise any new mom not to worry about it if they’re doing it.
  3. Seeing her smile at me first thing in the morning. This was one of the best parts of sleeping with her.
  4. Realizing she wanted to face me. Again, when we were sleeping. She wasn’t trying to nurse, but she’s a snuggly bug. It helped me trust that we were forming a strong bond.
  5. Camping with her. We camped in the lower Cascades the weekend of her 6 month birthday, so she can brag about that. The night was a little rough, for me as least. I was afraid of her crying and bothering the other campers, so I sat up with her a lot of the night and nursed her. It was uncomfortable and tiring. But the next morning, we put her into a goose down jacket and she and I sat next to each other in a big camping chair. I drank coffee and smelled the morning woodsy goodness, and it made up for the crappy night.
  6. Realizing she twirled her hair. When he hair finally got long enough, she started reaching for it and pulling on it.  I’ve noticed she wraps her little thumb around it. She also twirls my hair sometimes when I’m rocking her to sleep. I love this, because I’m a hair twirler (as are my mother and my aunt) and I used to twirl my mom’s hair, too. #generations #family
  7. How she slept on my chest the first month. She was just a little pumpkin seed, a lumpy sock, and she loved sleeping on me.
  8. Hearing her get excited to see a mirror. Even today, when I go shopping, I just park her in front of a mirror and she has the best time.  I wish we all were so gleeful at the sight of our reflections like she is.
  9. Wearing her. I first put her in a Moby wrap when she was probably a week old, maybe a little older. (We were kept in the hospital a few days longer than normal since I had such a hard time.) It was super cold, so we were only out there a few minutes, she was really bundled up, and the wrap was over her face for the few minutes we were out there. But I pulled it back at one point to show her the sunlight. But wearing her is like getting a hug the whole time.
  10. Our bedtime routine. The four B’s: Bottle (or breast), Brush (teeth), Book, Bed. Every time. I let her take a turn holding the toothbrush and then we sit down in the glider and first I read her the story and then let her “read it to me,” flip through the pages. We rock and talk. Then, I turn off the light and turn on the white noise machine.  When I turn the machine on, she automatically puts her head on my shoulder: she knows what’s going on.  Sometimes she sings along with me and hums while I hum. When I’m done singing, I tell her “mommy loves you,” kiss her, and put a cross on her forehead before I leave. I love it.

Thanks for walking down memory lane with me, as I so often as you to do where the Wee One is concerned. 🙂

 

 

Weekend Coffee Share #17

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If we were having coffee, we would be glad to walk into the warm coffee house. It’s colder outside today than normal! I remark when I see you push the hood off your head, shaking raindrops off. It is wintertime, but I have been so pleasantly surprised by how mild the winter has been, particularly since I’ve heard how nasty it is in the Mid-West. The Wee One and I were even able to go hiking this past week!

Speaking of hiking, a woman walks in pushing a double stroller with twin toddlers. They’re subdued under their blanket, but she still struggles getting the stroller through the front door and between the close small tables. Seeing them all makes me miss the Wee One, who had daddy-daughter time these days I go and write and have coffee with girlfriends.

Today when I left, he was skyping with his parents and showing off her standing up skills. She will position herself standing by something, and then let go, just to do it.  She’s not showing off for us, she’s practicing and testing herself. I think she’s remarkable. All babies might do that, you point out; I don’t want to know!  I exclaim. My daughter is the most extraordinary creature EVER! I say with a wink and a smile. Of course, you agree.

If we were having coffee, I tell you about talking to my best friend last night and how nervous she is about going on a first date with someone. Do you have first date horror stories? you ask me, and I make a face remembering it. There was one guy I met bicycling the MKT Trail outside of the Columbia, Missouri. We enjoyed talking and raced each other to the Katy trail. He was an Air Force vet and kind of cute, but I was getting more and more uncomfortable as we rode back in.  He gave me his number (this was before cell phones) and I raced home reciting it to myself. I dialed the number when we got home, as I had promised I would, and asked for Gary. “Gary?” the guy who answered started laughing. “Who’s Gary? You mean Greg?” Ouch. That’s embarrassing and I hate being laughed at. Then Gary/Greg got on the phone, and it was so awkward and weird, I was happy when we hung up.

Etta James “At Last” comes over the speakers, and my heart clutches as it always does.  We both stop talking to sway in time to the song. I had wanted this to be the first song Cohiba  and I danced to after we got married, but I didn’t have that kind of wedding reception. We did have a first dance, though, just after the ceremony and then a dinner with our guests at one of the restaurants in EPCOT. As a compromise, we put the song on our wedding video, over the high reel.

If we were having coffee, I wonder aloud is that is why I like to watch people and try to read what’s going on., particularly when I think its a first date. First dates can go in so many directions, it’s like a crap shoot. Even over the course of the date itself, things shift. Still, she’ll come home with a story, hopefully better than the one I just told.

Now Sam Cooke is playing. The tunes in here today are live and on point.

 

 

 

 

 

Feminism Isn’t Finished (But Has A Long Way To Go)

~ Sahara ~ Leave a comment

I had an article run on She Knows! I answered a call to write an op-ed on feminism and it came out yesterday. I loved being able to write about something I have a strong opinion on.

The feminist movement is so 1970s; tired and completely unnecessary to women of today. This was the takeaway from February news stories of social gaffes by Gloria Steinem and Madeline Albright while campaigning for Hillary Clinton. Women are have choices and equal rights, and so there is no need for feminism anymore.

How I wish that were true.

Read more on the she knows website!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Top Ten Ways Going Out as a Mother is Like Going Out As A Tween

~ Sahara ~ 3 Comments

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This week’s Top Ten Tuesday is brought to you by cigars and a whisky flight. (Oh yeah, and it’s the Wee One’s first birthday today!  I lost my baby today and gained a toddler!)

Last Monday, a girlfriend and I went out and had so. Much. Fun. I mean, so much fun, and since then, I’ve been thinking about how similar going out after baby is to going out in junior high and early high school. Unlike previous Top Tens, these listed in the order in which they come up in a night.

(Note: This was in the early to mid 90’s, so we didn’t have the internet or even ubiquitous computers. We had landlines and cassette tapes. And acid washed jeans.)

  1. You dress differently. In youth, since I was going out, I wanted to look cool. So I would wear the one shirt that was a little tighter/lower cut, the one I wouldn’t normally wear. When I go out after baby, I’m not worried about access to my boobs, and I knew I wouldn’t get any spit-up on my clothes!
  2. You wear makeup, usually badly. In junior high, I wouldn’t wear makeup really, and when I did, it wasn’t put on very well. It wasn’t always even mine own make-up! I have found that post-Wee One, I wear make-up so rarely that I’ve kind of forgotten how to put it on.  When we went out, my friend was wearing perfume – she got in the car and she DIDN’T smell like baby wipes. I was like, “What is that weird aroma?”
  3. The first few minutes together are spent telling stories about how you got away. In junior high, the story may involve what you told your mother or what you had to go through to get a ride. After baby, you’re dancing around bedtimes and evading separation anxiety, so it can be hard to leave the house. My girlfriend’s daughter has strong separation anxiety right now and her husband distracted the child as my friend slid out the door. She said she could hear the baby’s wail as she went down the hall. On her way to the car, she tore her pants.  “But I worked so hard to get out, and I couldn’t go back in and have to leave again, so fuck it.”
  4. Once you get out, you go to a place you wouldn’t normally go. In junior high, we would go places our parents wouldn’t want to hang out, maybe even places we weren’t supposed to hang out. This time, my girlfriend and I went to a cigar bar, a place I used to go with fervor, as you well know, and I haven’t gotten to do as much since the Wee One came along.
  5. One there, you tell everyone you meet that you got away. Not that we would do this in junior high, but there were several references to it amongst the group.  When my girlfriend and I went out, we told the hostess at our restaurant, our waiter, then later, a bartender and a couple of strangers that we were having a girl’s night out.
  6. You eat what normally wouldn’t or couldn’t. I feel weird drinking alcohol when I’m out with the Wee One, unless it’s wine and I’m in an Italian place. When I was a freshman in high school, I would go with girlfriends to Applebees and we would all order virgin strawberry daiquiris. We felt so cool drinking those, but we wouldn’t try to do it in front of our parents, who would look at us sideways.
  7. You scream with laughter. As much as we loved our families as kids, and as much as we love our babies now, we felt free in a way we normally weren’t.  We felt joyful and full of life, and that was our way of expressing it.
  8. You talk to lots of people. When you’re finally out on your own in JH, you’re the one doing that talking, not your mother. Your opinion is the only one that matters. AB, you can suddenly make conversation with anyone about anything and stand there and talk for as long as you want! Which wasn’t always a good thing, as it might lead to #9
  9. Get talked to by someone inappropriate. In JH, it was the creepy guy in the food court who kept smiling at you when he refilled his soda. This time, it was a guy at the craps table who thought he was slick in asking about my friend’s husband. (Now that I think about it, it was probably the same guy.)
  10. Come away from it feeling very much alive. Both then and now, you laugh for days afterwards and hold on to the memories for a long time.

 

Weekend Coffee Share #16

~ Sahara ~ 1 Comment

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If we were having coffee, your mouth would open at the sight of the bandage on my ring finger. What happened?! Girl, let me tell you, and this is going to get kind of gross. I was using my new mandolin slicer to cut bits of apple for the Wee One, and wouldn’t you know it, I sliced the corner of my finger off.*

You immediately grimace and gasp. It’s not as bad as it sounds but it sucked when it happened. At first I thought I would have to get stitches, but there was nothing to stitch together!  And then I thought, how am I going to get her out of her high chair and into a car seat without bleeding all over the place? I was trying to keep it elevated and pressure on it, which meant I couldn’t do anything with her! It also meant I had a sanitary napkin wrapped around my finger, which was the only sanitary wound care thing we had in the house, and looked pretty funny.

Then, she started choking on one of those fucking apple slices! She ended up throwing up a little bit, which got it out, but I was so upset, more than about my finger. I got her out of her high chair and held her for awhile, during which time the bleeding slowed and eventually stopped. I had contacted a friend to come over and help with her, for which I am so thankful. She stayed here and I got a proper bandage.

If we were having coffee, you would ask about the Wee One’s birthday party. It was so much work, man.  I didn’t know it would be so much work, but, we had it in the clubhouse of the apartment complex, which is probably why it felt like so much: I had to take everything there and bring it back, which meant packing and unpacking the car. But the Wee One had fun and I’m glad it’s done.

We’re briefly distracted by some kids player soccer in the parking lot outside. I hope that doesn’t last long, you observe, given the traffic that comes through.

If we were having coffee, I would comment on one of the babies at the birthday party: she turned four months yesterday, which is about the age the Wee One was when we moved out here. It was remarkable to hold her and compare between then and now.

She’s a year old now. I can tell that she isn’t a baby anymore, but she’s not quite a toddler yet either. (Though that may mostly because because she’s still not mobile.) I can’t tell if I’m sad or not; I mostly just want to hold the Wee One closer. Which I usually want to do anyway. Also, my first year of motherhood is over. Even with a second, it won’t be my first time through. This special sacred tremulous time is over. Of course, now it’s my first time mothering a toddler, so here’s to that, I say with a smile, raising my coffee.

 

 

 

 

 

*It has made typing this week quite difficult!

Weekend Coffee Share #15

~ Sahara ~ 2 Comments

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If we were having coffee, when I walk to the table, I notice a cherry danish where I would normally be sitting.  “Are you expecting someone?” I ask you, half serious.  You, silly! you say. You bought me a treat for Valentine’s Day, and now I feel like an asshole because I hadn’t thought of the same thing.

You wave me away when I say that, and point to one side. A side you cut. It was actually half of yours, but you knew I would feel like a jerk and you wanted to get a little chuckle this morning. I’m so glad I please you, I say, rolling my eyes. You notice I’m not drinking out of a paper cup, but a porcelain one. It’s actually quite big and you joke with me about being at Central Perk, from Friends. Oh stop, I say. You’re not that funny. You throw a napkin at me.

If we were having coffee, you ask me about Valentine’s Day with Cohiba and the Wee One.  I shrug and roll my eyes. Cohiba and I really think it’s just a Hallmark holiday to make money so we don’t really care about doing big gestures. Instead, we went out for (a very early) dinner as a family, as we usually do on Saturday nights. We talked and made plans and watched the Wee One interact with other kids and learn about gravity by dropping things. You tell me you’ll be having a ‘Galentine’s‘ dinner with friends, which I think sounds like fun.  I’ve actually never done that, and I just now realized that I could. You can come to mine next year, you say, if you make the cut.

This reminds me of a really sweet offer a friend of mine made. The Wee One’s birthday party is next weekend, and she said I could call on her if we needed any help picking anything up! Until she said that and I started thinking about it, I didn’t even realize how much having an extra person would help and how much her offer meant to me.  You know, being a mother is also teaching me about friendship and being a good friend. Lessons I would not have learned otherwise. Cohiba and I were talking about that at dinner last night, how the Wee One has helped us be a better couple.

That sounds like a pretty nice Valentine’s Day lesson, you muse, and I agree.

If we were having coffee, you would ask me about how the story is coming; am I still working on it? I tell you that I think I’ve set a goal to finish my March. Ooh! I should put that on my 52/52! I say. Have you heard of National Novel Writing Month in November? You squint your eyes and say you think you have. When I do the blog posts every day in November, I’m doing it in lieu of a No, a novel.  Have you every written one in a month? you ask me, and I tell you I haven’t, but I did write over 10,000 words, which is more than I’ve ever done before.  And I don’t think this story should be a novel, at least not right now. So a 10,000 word story is good.

Well, I’m looking forward to it, you say.